


Perfect

by tinyniel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel's Trenchcoat, Clothes, Drabble, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, Gen, M/M, trench coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyniel/pseuds/tinyniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick drabble. I just really like the idea of Cas in Dean's clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

After Castiel falls, one of the problems he didn't count on is his clothes getting filthy. And torn. And unlike before, he can't just snap his fingers and look pristine again. After three weeks, his trench coat is torn and dirty, his suit and tie not looking any better.

It's just him and Dean one afternoon, Sam out doing research, when he finds Dean studying him.  
"Is something wrong, Dean?"  
"Here." Dean gets up, digs through his duffle bag and pulls out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  
"Dean, there's no need-"  
"You look like a hobo, man." Dean thrusts the clothes into Castiel's hands.  
"Dean-"  
"No protest-" Dean interrupts. "Besides." He flashes Castiel a grin. "I ain't letting you in my car looking like that. You'll stain the upholstery."  
"Very well," Castiel sighs.

He brings the clothes into the bathroom, and strips slowly out of his coat and suit. He pulls the tattered tie off, starts to unbutton his shirt. It reveals skin littered with little scars and healing bruises, most of them from his earliest days as a human, before he got used to being careful. Lately, he's gotten much better at dodging the blows.

Castiel steps into the shower, relishing the feeling the spray of warm water brings with it. Falling isn't all bad. A shower might be a small thing, but if there's one thing Cas is learning about being human, it's to be thankful for small favours.

He steps out of the shower, towels himself off, before turning to Dean's clothes. The jeans are slightly too long, and hang off his slim hips. The t-shirt is too large, but there's something comfortable about the way it hangs loosely. It has a faint smell of gun oil and something Castiel can only define as 'Dean'.

He dries his hair, leaving it ruffled, towel draped over his shoulders, before taking in the sight of himself in the mirror. He looks tiny, puny, in Dean's slightly too big clothes.

"Cas?" It's Dean's voice from outside the door. "You OK in there?"  
"Yes. I'll be right out."

He steps back into the room, and finds Dean sitting on one of the beds. When he spots Castiel, his face cracks into a smile.  
"Well, look at you."  
"I feel silly," Castiel says, pulling at the slipping jeans and fidgeting with the too large t-shirt.  
"Well, you look good," Dean grins. He digs into his bag again, pulling out a belt. "We're gonna have to make do until we have time to go shopping."

He steps over to Castiel, slipping the belt into the loops of his jeans. Castiel just lets him, watches as Dean's arms slip around his waist, Dean fitting the belt into every loop, finally buckling it. He takes a step back, taking in the sight.

"Somethin' missin'," he concludes, grabbing the red, plaid shirt that's hanging off the chair next to the TV. Cas pulls it on, rolling the sleeves up like he's watched Dean do so many times.

He looks up at Dean. "Better?"  
Dean's smile is like sunshine. "Perfect."


End file.
